All language subtitles for Doogie Howser MD s04e22 What Makes Doogie Run.eng

Good afternoon, and welcome.
Today... Grown-up child prodigies.

What were their lives
like as children?

Joining us is soon Lee keun,

concert violinist and composer,

who wrote 17 symphonies
before the age of 8.

Billy tishler, at age 15,

the youngest person ever to
become world chess champion.

Chris Reed, mathematical genius,

joining us
by special arrangement

with the Oakland
federal penitentiary.

Now serving 3-5 years
for computer fraud.

And Dr. Douglas howser,

a 19-year-old surgical resident
at eastman medical center.

Welcome to the show, everybody.

Dr. howser,
let's begin with you.

Why medicine?

When I was 6, I had just recovered
from childhood leukemia,

and I decided I wanted
to be a doctor,

and I never looked back.

I went to Princeton,
graduated when I was 10,

then graduated from
med school at 14.

Chris, what was
your childhood like?

I was locked in a closet
till I was 11.

Hey, it was a joke.
Lighten up, people.

Interesting. Soon Lee?

I practiced.
Every day I practiced.

Thank you.

Billy, you were a grand
master at age 10.

You focused your genius
on only one thing... chess.

Any regrets?

King's knight to queen's
bishop 4, yumpolski, '72.

I should've won that match,

but the chair was very
uncomfortable.

I asked for another one,
but they refused.

It was all part of the plot.

Now no matter what,
I bring my own chair.

Equally interesting.

Soon Lee,
what do you do for fun?

I practice. Thank you.

Dr. howser, some people believe

that children
who are mental giants

become emotionally
crippled adults.

Would you care to respond?

I don't have any
emotional problems.

Yeah, right.

My situation may be
a little different.

I'll admit getting a medical
degree at such an early age

may have downscaled
my social life,

but now that I've
achieved certain goals,

I plan on easing up
a little bit.

I had the same delusions
of normalcy, too.

The older you get,
the more obsessed you get.

Bingo. That's ridiculous.

Oh, come on, doctor,
you love being the best.

Two things won't allow
you to let up...

The world and your ego.

What do you mean, the world?

All of you.
You're never satisfied.

If we don't sacrifice
everything to stay on top,

you act as if we let you down.

He's right!

All day I hear,
"soon Lee must practice.

Soon Lee must not
have boyfriend."

Soon Lee fed up to here!

Shut up. You're
giving me a headache.

I thought geniuses were people
you were supposed to admire,

but you all seem
a little crazy to me.

I'm a very normal person.

Shut up, doctor boy!

You're no different than us.

I'm very different.

Come on, we're all lunatics.

You're the lunatic.

I'm a doctor.

Like there's no such
thing as crazy doctors.

I resent that remark.

So beat me up.

What's going on down there?

Child prodigies...
Gifted or cursed?

More when we come back.

Night. Day.

No. Morning.

Mid... midmorning.

Uh, dusk.

Dawn.

Predawn.

Predusk.

Day.

That's good.

O.K., let's see.
What's on a farm?

There's, uh... There's a farmer.

This is good.

A farmer. Is he young?

No, he's old.

Yeah, he's old. McDonald.

Yeah, old McDonald had a farm.

Ee-i-ee-i-o.

I need air.

Vinnie?

In here, doog!

Did you get much writing done?

Are you kidding?

With an oven this filthy?

I'm still distracted.
I'm still blocked.

Getting out of that noisy
dorm room didn't help.

You didn't have any problem
with your last script.

Doog, it's obvious.

On the day you're born,

god bequeaths you a certain
number of scripts.

Sadly, my number was one.

Hello?

You're looking more bored
with my problems than usual.

Sorry. I guess I'm a
little distracted, too.

It's that
Jenny Jones show again.

There's so much about
life I don't understand.

Maybe I do retreat into medicine
where I can feel superior.

You are just a regular guy...

You drive a car,
go out on dates.

You're using an autopsy
report as a place mat.

O.K., you know what?

Maybe both of us

need to get away from
our work for a while,

seek inspiration elsewhere.

Eureka! Give me this.

Huh? Our guide
to broader horizons.

The learning annex?

We flip this baby open,

the first class
we land on, we saddle up.

What do you say?

Yee-hah.

Pow!

"How to become a balloon artist.

Taught by knuckles the clown."

No.

"Attain buns of steel
with Sebastian."

I'd rather not.

All right.

"Acting... monologues
and scene study."

No. I don't know
anything about acting.

That's the point, isn't it?

No. You're not making me
look like a fool.

Now is the winter
of our discontent,

made glorious summer
by this son of York.

Grim-visaged war hath
smoothed his wrinkled...

Doogie, I'm going
to stop you here.

The hump?

Forget the hump.

What's going on
with Richard here?

Shakespeare chose to give
Richard a hump and a limp.

Some scholars think the hump
resulted from kyphoscoliosis.

I posited that that condition
was owed to a cartilage defect

which could affect his
speaking and breath patterns.

I was thinking more
on an emotional level.

Grab that chair and
try it again sitting down.

Lose the hump.

Oh, o.K.

Ahem.

Just the words.

Now is the winter
of our discontent.

Uh...

Made, uh... I'm sorry.

I'm really thrown
without the hump.

I understand.
It's a very advanced piece.

Next time try something a little
more simple, like a poem, o.K.?

Who's next?

Hey, it's not your fault,
it's the script.

Oh, I'm going to do
Richard III, too.

Anything you want to
share about the part?

Richard thinks he deserves to
be getting all the things.

York's getting, but can't
because of the way he looks.

Whenever you're ready.

Now is the winter
of our discontent,

made glorious summer
by this son of York.

Grim-visaged war hath
smoothed his wrinkled front,

and now instead of
mounting barbed steeds

to frighten the souls
of fearful adversaries,

he capers nimbly
in a lady's chamber

to the lascivious
pleasing of a lute.

But I...

That am not shaped
for sportive tricks,

nor made to court an
amorous looking glass...

I, that am rudely stamped

and want love's majesty...

I that am curtailed
of this fair proportion,

cheated of feature
by dissembling nature,

am determined to prove
a villain.

That's about it.

Where's the John?

Yeah, acting is so
different for you.

I mean, I'm glad you're
trying to be well-rounded.

Trying to be well-rounded?

I'm not well-rounded?

No, no, no.
You're very well-rounded,

I just meant that
this will make you even...

Rounder.

Vinnie.

Smooth save, nurse Faber,

smooth save. Yeah.

I'll see you later.

So what time are you
picking me up tonight?

I'm not, vin.
I'm quitting the class.

Why?

What do you mean WHY?
I completely humiliated myself.

I was terrible.

Remember why we did this?

It's not to be the best,

but to broaden our horizons.

You can learn from failure.

I learned I don't like it.

Be like Billy, the chess geek...

Stick with the one
thing you do well,

and soon you'll be wearing
the same underwear

four days in a row.

How do you do it?

Sense memory. While
I was doing Richard,

I thought about a time in my
life when I felt like he did.

You'll have to
explain that one, vin.

O.K. For my 8th birthday,

my mother took me and
six kids to Disneyland.

You were at Princeton.

We were at space mountain.

I chose as my copilot

the physically precocious
suzi berlutti.

We moved slowly toward
the boarding gate.

Anticipation charged the air.

Suddenly, I'm standing next
to that sign that reads,

"passengers must be taller
than this sign to ride."

I'm 2 inches short.

Suzi goes into orbit
with Robbie tupperman.

I'm left to ride the
teacups with my mother.

I then am rudely stamped
and want love's majesty.

I'm impressed.

As well you should be.

Thou speakest aright.

I am that merry wanderer
of the night.

I jest with oberon
and make him smile.

When I, a fat bean fed
horse beguiled,

made in the likeness
of a filly foe.

I can't do this.

Would you stop worrying?
You're gonna be fine.

You picked a poem, right?

Yeah.

Good.

Out of all the poems
you could have picked,

you picked that one.

So, obviously, it must
mean something to you,

so just think about that.

And waxen in their mirth,
and knees and swear,

never a merrier moment
wasted there.

That's much better,
Louis, thanks.

Who's next?

I guess I am.

What are you going to be doing?

Um, I'm going to be doing a poem

lamenting the loss of childhood.

What does childhood
mean to you, doogie?

It means being a kid.

What does that mean to you?

It means not having
to worry about anything.

So when you worry,
your childhood's over?

Yeah, it just slips away.

Grab it back.

You can't.

Yes, you can.

Try harder, grab it back.

You can't grab it back.

You try and it keeps
slipping away,

and keeps slipping away,

and there's not a damn thing
you can do about it.

Now, start the poem.

Um...

When I was a child,

all my days were filled
with endless wonder.

When I was a child,

I would lie
on the dew-covered grass

and search the vast
evening sky for falling stars.

When I was a child,

my friends and I would venture

deep into the woods

and tell tales
of the grim reaper...

Who with sickle in hand...

Icily searched
for his next victim.

We weren't afraid.

He came only for the old,

not us.

When I was a child,

I would look to my
mother's arms for warmth

and my father's eyes
for approval.

When I was a child...

I wondered...

When will I be grown?

Now I'm an adult,
and I wonder...

Can I ever be a child again?

Hello, look, ma, no hands.

Oh, hi. Boy, you're gorgeous.

I am happy tonight.
Are you happy tonight?

Kind of.

Do you want to kiss?

O.K.

Good one.

Oh, my god.

Howser, one minute
you're crying,

the next minute you're
kissing strange women.

What gives?

Vincent, look upon me.
What do you see?

A man set free.

Free from what?

I'm up there doing my poem,

and I'm thinking
about what you said.

I started thinking about this
trip I took with my parents

the day after I found out
my leukemia had come back.

We hopped a plane to Florida,

and in four days,
we hit Disney world,

the everglades, sea world,
the wiki watchee mermaids,

Fred Rambo's monkey jungle,

and then we flew home and
checked into the hospital.

The leukemia went away,

but what didn't go away
was this feeling

that I had to hurry up
and do everything now.

I guess I've been on a frightened
six-year-old's fast track ever since.

What are you going
to do about it?

The unthinkable.

Rome! Thank you,
blessed index finger.

I love Rome. I could
spend a year there.

I just might.

Katherine, he's decided.

Don't look back, son.
You've earned this.

So...

I'm going to miss you.

In Italy,
I'm a dime a dozen, doog.

Guys like me
on every street corner.

It'll be your worst nightmare.

I'm really going to miss you.

I know you fought hard
to get me on staff.

I hope my resignation's
not a disappointment to you.

Resignation?
No chance, Dr. howser.

I'm thinking of this as an
open-ended leave of absence.

I'm counting on you
to come back here.

Thank you, Dr. canfield.

You came here a child,

you're leaving a man.

And you're still in your teens.

What must it be like to be you?

That's what I'm trying
to figure out.

Here he is...
The man of the hour.

Goodbye, Dr. howser.

Hello, more work.

I'd do anything to go to Rome.

Hey, send me a postcard.

I'm starting to
miss you already.

This must be so great
for your ego.

Yeah, well...

We need a hand over here!

Clear the way!

25-year-old male.

Possible spinal cord injury.

Put him in trauma "a."

Diving accident.

No sensation
in his lower extremities.

Minimal movement in
upper extremities.

Respiration 20.

B.P. 90 over 60.

Ready? And one, two, three.

Looks like he's having
trouble breathing.

Set up for an intubation.
He needs some blood.

Right away.

We'll have to ventilate him.

Call inhalation therapy
for a respirator.

Some mannitol, please.
Set up an I.V.

Foley catheter?

Yeah.

He's looking a little cyanotic.

All right, what's his pulse now?

It's 84.

So, how much are you
going to miss me?

You should've worn that
motion-sickness patch.

I thought you quit medicine.

Fine.

O.K., could you give me
something now to help me?

Sure.

Cute.

Regardless of how this
looks, I feel wonderful.

Well, you're wonderful to watch.

This is the answer
to my problem.

I got writer's block
'cause I lack grist

for the screenwriters' mill.

Hemingway said it all...

You got to live life before
you can write about it.

This will open a wealth
of experiences for me.

My problem is,
I got nothing to say.

Then why won't you shut up?

I'm not going to take
that crap in Italy.

I got people there.

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